


Used to the Darkness

by itsjohndoe



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types, Pennyworth (TV 2019), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Batdad, Batfamily, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Multi, Nightwing - Freeform, Robin - Freeform, Shadow powers, Slow Build, batman has superpowers, bruce wayne has superpowers, itsjohndoe, martha and thomas are the major character death event, metahuman!batman, metahuman!bruce wayne, my writing, trigger warnings in author notes, used to the darkness by itsjohndoe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsjohndoe/pseuds/itsjohndoe
Summary: Bruce’s powers are the reason his parents died (and why he lived). Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. Discovering his powers during the tragic murder of his parents, Bruce comes to have a complicated, painful relationship with his superpowers.Batman, also known as Gotham’s Dark Knight, is a strange man with many secrets. No one knows his identity and no one knows the truth. Batman’s reputation of being Gotham’s, and after the founding of the Justice League, the world’s guardian, is based on a lie. The public finds comfort in his presence -- he is a normal man working to protect humanity amongst aliens, cyborgs and super powered individuals. Batman hides his powers to protect the public. Bruce hides his powers to protect himself.TL;DR: A metahuman!Bruce Wayne AU in which he can teleport through and manipulate shadows.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth/Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth/Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth/Thomas Wayne, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 148





	1. Broken But Not Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> tw//death of parents/murder, blood, survivor’s guilt, brief mention of police officers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw//death of parents/murder, blood, survivor’s guilt, brief mention of police officers
> 
> follow me on twitter: @enbybatman

“Master Bruce?” Alfred exclaims, and in his surprise, he drops the cup he had been washing. It’s a pretty, fragile teacup that falls to the bottom of a sink with a clatter. By nothing short of a miracle, it cracks instead of shattering, leaving a large scar along its left side. He had heard the boy approach long before he saw him, his small but nevertheless audible footsteps echoing throughout the manor. “I was not expecting you and your parents to return so…” his voice trails off as he finally turns to face Bruce. 

Something is wrong. Horribly wrong. Silent tears stream down what is normally a bright, happy face. And there’s blood. There’s so much of it. On his scraped knees. On his hands. A smear on his face. Alfred glances over Bruce’s shoulder, searching for his parents. His worry only increases when he realizes the Waynes are nowhere nearby. “Everything will be alright my dear boy,” he assures the trembling child, “so take a deep breath and try to answer one tiny little question for me. Where are your parents?”

Bruce, the brave boy, does his best to comply with his request, making multiple attempts to take deep breaths. Instead of calming breaths, however, his breathing comes in rapid, panicked gasps. “I… They…” Bruce replies, “They’re dead, Alfie. They’re dead and only I survived. I’m so selfish, Alfie. I’m so awful.”

There many questions that Alfred is currently unable to answer, questions such as when were they killed? Where were they killed? And how did Bruce get home? But no matter these questions, there’s one thing he is sure of -- Bruce is not awful. He is not selfish. He is merely a child who was forced to experience loss way too soon. “Oh Master Bruce,” he coos, gently pulling the boy in for a hug, “oh my poor boy. Come here. Let’s take this one step at a time, alright? Let me get you cleaned up. Then we can talk some more, alright? Nod if you understand.” Bruce replies with a small nod. Scooping the boy up, Alfred takes Bruce to the bathroom to clean his wounds, and to clean what he assumes to be his parents’ blood off his hands. 

\-----------------------------------------  
He doubts Bruce would lie about something so serious, however, he finds Bruce’s explanation of what happened difficult to believe. The poor boy is likely just confused. The whole experience must have been horrifying to both witness and be a part of. “I’m sorry Master Bruce,” he replies, giving the boy’s shoulder a gentle pat, “I don’t think I’m following you. You said you fell and scraped your knees,” that for sure happened - Bruce has the scraped knees to prove it. “But it didn’t end there? When you hit the ground you continued to fall… You fell through a shadow and ended up here? So you’re saying that you fell through a shadow and teleported home?”

“Yes,” Bruce mumbles in reply, clutching his teddy bear closer to his chest. After getting him cleaned up, Alfred had him change into some pajamas. Although it is unlikely Bruce will be sleeping anytime soon considering the traumatic experience he just went through, Alfred thought it would be best if he at least attempted to get Bruce to sleep. “I know it sounds crazy but it really did happen, Alfie. Honest.” For Alfred, seeing is believing but he most certainly isn’t going to tell Bruce that. As it is, he can’t seem to come up with many other logical explanations. Bruce must have gotten a ride home. There’s no way he could have ran home all the way from the theater downtown. The theater is over 20 miles away.

Before Alfred can respond, there’s a series of loud thuds - it’s the sound of a fist colliding with the front door. “Gotham PD, anyone home?” At this interruption, Bruce flashes Alfred a wide eyed look. It’s a look of pure panic. He may be a child, but even he is aware of how people treat those they don’t understand. Leaning close to Bruce, Alfred whispers, “Everything will be alright, Master Bruce. I will talk to them. I won’t tell them what happened. Not the truth. That’s just for you and me to know. So stay here, alright?” Alfred waits for Bruce to nod in agreement before leaving the room. 

Like any careful Gothamite, Alfred first looks into the peephole before answering the door. The men are in uniform and there is a cruiser sitting out front. Appearance wise, they seem to be who they claim they are. But that doesn’t really mean anything. Police Officers claim to protect, but they seldomly serve anyone other than rich, bigoted white men or themselves. Cracking the door open a few inches, he greets them. “Good evening officers. I was just about to call you. I’m assuming this is about Master Bruce’s parents? He arrived home not too long ago. His parents protected him and he ran. It seems he managed to get a cab home. I don’t know the details but he told me his parents were killed.”

One of the police officers, a middle aged man with pale skin and greying hair, visibly relaxes at Alfred’s words. “Yes, they were killed. And when the boy was nowhere nearby we feared he had been kidnapped or worse.” The other officer, a woman with tan skin and brownish-black hair, nods in agreement. “We have finished gathering evidence from the scene, all we have left is Bruce’s interview,” the male officer adds, shooting him an expectant look.

“Now?” Alfred replies with an incredulous laugh, “Now? It is nearly midnight! And Master Bruce is a child. A child, might I remind you, who watched his parents get murdered. He is in no condition to be awake right now, much less give an interview. I admire your diligence but he will not be talking to you tonight or even tomorrow. He needs time to recover. He needs therapy.”

“And he needs his parent’s killer apprehended,” the female officer insists. 

“That is true,” Alfred agrees, “but you know what he needs more? To be okay. That boy is in there blaming himself for his parents' deaths. He feels guilty for surviving. He hates himself for it. You will get his interview when he’s ready. If he ever feels ready.” And with that said, he pulls the door open wider just so he can have the satisfaction of slamming it in their face. 

Not long after he closes the door, Alfred feels a tug on his jacket. And, low and behold, Bruce Wayne is standing behind him, his small forming rising up out of his shadow. Hearing about Bruce’s shadow teleporting powers is one thing but seeing it… Seeing it is another thing. “My goodness, you truly are a special boy,” Alfred remarks, hoping his words will comfort Bruce. Sadly, they have the opposite effect.

“No,” Bruce corrects him, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, “No Alfie, I’m not special. I’m cursed.”

It is in that moment Bruce reminds Alfred of the teacup he had dropped earlier. Bruce is fragile. Bruce is broken. But Alfred will not let him shatter.


	2. Wounds Both Old and New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// blood, violence, ptsd symptoms, mention of hell

**EIGHT YEARS LATER**

It’s Bruce’s birthday. His sweet 16. Most teenagers would be throwing parties, or hanging out with a small group of friends, or at the very least, lazing about on their birthday. But not Bruce. It’s oddly fitting for Bruce to be so active on his birthday. Even before the tragic loss of his parents, when it comes to people his own age, he’s shy and hesitant. Alfred is not exactly sure why Bruce gets so nervous around his peers, but he suspects it has something to do with the Wayne reputation. The Waynes are supposed to be intelligent, rich and successful business people. Although his grades have been on a steady incline thanks to years of therapy, Bruce has had his fair share of failures. The first few months after their death and Bruce’s first birthday without his parents was especially rough. He was sad. He was mad. He was frustrated. And Alfred could hardly blame him for it. Between the loss of his parents and his newfound powers, Bruce was going through a lot. He still is going through a lot. 

The birthday boy bounds up to him, flashing him one of his rare smiles. In his hand is a stack of paperwork. Well, not just paperwork. It’s his homework. Alfred has established a strict set of rules for the boy turned vigilante to follow. One of the most important rules is that he isn’t allowed to let the fight to help Gotham consume him. He must go to school. He must join an after school club and at least attempt to make friends. He must do his homework before going down to the cave. Giving the stack a quick skim to make sure every assignment is completed and not just half done to make it look like he worked on it, he passes the stack back to Bruce. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to eat dinner early as a birthday present instead of going down to the early as a present?”

“Tempting offer,” Bruce replies, tucking his homework into his binder. He in turn tucks the binder into his backpack. “But no. You said I could have anything I want for my birthday and I want to go down to the cave early. I want to start patrol early.  _ You promised, Alfie. _ ” 

“And I don’t break promises,” Alfred admits with a heavy sigh. “Fine, but at least eat a granola bar before you go.”

“Deal.”

\-----------------------------------------

Gotham is gritty, grim and gruesome at night. Street lights and other public amenities are in disrepair and barely functioning. The street lights blink rapidly and desperately like dying fireflies. The streets are moreso lit by passing cars and the moon than streetlights. Gotham is a large, maze like city. There are alleyways within alleyways. Tunnels within tunnels. Business buildings are similar, damn near identical and easy to forget. The abandoned buildings in Gotham’s slum district aren’t much better. The buildings are so old and so degraded that one rickety structure leans and blends into another. Despite being born and raised in Gotham, even Bruce gets lost sometimes. Hence, he has come to rely on his Shadow powers to navigate Gotham’s winding streets. When he steps into a shadow, all he has to do is think of where he wants to go and he teleports there. He doesn’t have to worry about figuring out east from west and he doesn’t have to worry about remembering street names. It’s just as convenient as GPS. Or he imagines it is just as convenient as his GPS. Alfred drives him everywhere and has insisted that Bruce neither needs a license nor a car until he goes to college.

There’s a telltale crackle as his earpiece relays a message from the police scanner. “ _ Shots heard either inside or near Derby’s Dinner. Witnesses say that there is at least one man with a gun.” _ It’s not a lot of info, but he likes a challenge. Stepping into the shadow of a parked car, he teleports to the location. 

He steps out of the shadow of the dumpster behind Derby’s donuts. Although tempted to check the inside first, his eyes are drawn to the bloody footprints leading away from the building. Emergency services can handle whoever is inside, for whoever is inside is likely the victim. Bruce’s gut tells him that the footprints lead to the culprit. Not wanting to risk alerting his prey to his presence by tripping over something in the dingy, dirty alleyway, he uses his powers to silently hop from shadow to shadow. He hops from the shadow of the dumpster, to the shadow of some stacked crates, to the shadow of some trash cans, to the shadow of another building. 

The alleyway takes a twist to the right, and Bruce cautiously peers around the corner.  _ Bingo.  _ There’s a man wearing a ski mask pointing a gun at a woman and her son. The boy is young, and Bruce estimates that he is a toddler. Despite his young age he seems to understand something is wrong, with him cowering and whimpering within his mother’s arms. The boy is younger than he was when he lost his parents. The boy looks nothing like him - he’s got umber colored skin and ebony colored hair. Nonetheless, the familiarity of the location and a familiarity of the situation strikes a particularly sensitive nerve within him. He’s safe, he’s hidden. He’s older, he’s smarter. And most importantly, he is stronger than the eight year old who watched his parents get murdered in an alleyway similar to this one. Nonetheless, the fear he feels refuses to fade. Instead it grows, and combines with feelings of panic and sadnesses. 

Despite these feelings, he powers through, silently sneaking up behind the man and knocking him out with one well aimed blow to the head. Kicking the gun out of the man’s reach, he shifts his gaze from the gun to that of the culprit’s would be victims. This is the first time he’s let anyone see Shadowhunter. He looks more like a shadow than a man, dressed head to toe in black clothing. Even his face is covered. There’s no way to determine his skin color or eye color.  **There’s no way to tell if he’s human.** His otherworldly appearance is part of the reason why criminals fear him. And, as he notices the woman and child’s wide eyed, fearful gaze, he comes to realize it’s the reason why Gotham as a whole fears him. To both the innocent and the guilty, he’s a monster. He’s a demon, that when stepping out of the shadows, seems to crawl up from the depths of hell. Before he can attempt to reassure them that he only wants to help, the woman gathers her son into her arms and runs away from him and soon disappears from sight. 

“They’re afraid of me,” Bruce whispers, quietly sharing his observation with Alfred. “They’re all afraid of me.” And with a bitter and pained chuckle, he adds, “happy birthday to me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used writingwithcolor (tumblr) and the mayo clinic as resources while writing this chapter. If you are BIPOC and/or if you have PTSD feel free to make suggestions on how I can improve this chapter.
> 
> follow me on twitter: enbybatman


	3. Becoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update via hasty editing LMAO
> 
> tw// drug mention, human trafficking mention, murder mention, anger issues mention, brief xenophobia toward partly human characters

Alfred had hoped college would lead to Bruce having a better work-life balance. That proved to be a foolish hope, however. Bruce attended Gotham University via the internet. It allowed him to study from home, learn at his own pace and continue to be Shadowhunter. Upon graduating, Alfred hoped that Bruce would work a day job and that the day job would force him to be Shadowhunter less. That proved to be yet another foolish hope. The only thing the additional responsibility has resulted in is Bruce sleeping less. 

Speaking of sleeping, Alfred catches Bruce hunched over the table, face abnormally close to his bowl of cereal. “Best be careful, Master Bruce,” Alfred playfully chides, gently bopping Bruce’s head with a rolled up newspaper, “I’d hate to have to perform CPR because you fell asleep in your bowl of Fruit Loops.”

Bruce, who proves to not be quite as sleepy as he seems, grabs hold of the newspaper and yanks it out of Alfred’s hand. Pushing himself up so there’s some distance between himself and his bowl, Bruce opens the newspaper. Upon seeing the headline ‘ _ Friend or Foe - Gotham Debates the Status of the Vigilante Shadowhunter,’ _ Alfred feels a wave of searing hot regret wash over him. This paper is the last thing Bruce needs to read. He’s already stressed and exhausted. The newspaper will only wear him down further. Alfred makes a grab for the paper but Bruce manages to dodge, ducking out of the way. Before Alfred can make another grab, Brue stands up and walks around the other side of the table. With the table now between them, it is significantly more difficult for Alfred to try to grab the paper. 

Bruce can read fast, but he can read even faster silently. Since Alfred is currently trying to stop him from reading the article he opts for reading silently, eyes hastily scanning the page as he continues to evade Alfred. Bruce’s reading and dodging ends almost as soon as it begins. Before Alfred can say as so much say a word, Bruce rolls up the newspaper, strides over to the trashcan and throws it away. 

“That’s right,” Alfred says with an approving smile, “it doesn’t matter what they think. All that matters-”

Bruce soon cuts him off, however. “It does matter, Alfred,” Bruce argues. “I’ve been fighting crime on these streets for years. I’ve confiscated and destroyed drugs. I’ve saved human trafficking victims. I’ve captured murderers. I’ve done so much good but they don’t see that. Instead, all they can focus on is how different I am. How I don’t seem human. Do you know who they compared me to? They compared me to that freak Parasite that terrorized Metropolis. You know that purple creature that only Superman could apprehend? And the comparisons don’t stop there. They compare me to Superman too. Hero or villain… Man or monster… They can’t decide. And until they decide they’re going to fear us. They’re going to fear _ me _ . The last thing Gotham needs is more fear, Alf. What Gotham needs is hope. And Shadowhunter can’t give them hope.”

Alfred had always hoped that Bruce might give up his night time activities. The sort of people and situations he tends to get involved in are extremely dangerous. But he never wanted Bruce to give up like this… He wanted Bruce to stop because he wanted to stop, not because he felt pressured to quit. Then there's the matter of his powers… He may be able to bury the persona but his powers will always remain. 

“What will you do now?” Alfred asks, both curious and worried about what Bruce might have in mind. 

“I will no longer be the night,” Bruce replies, lips set in a determined line, “That is, I will no longer use my shadow powers. Instead I will become something scary but recognizable. I will become something that only the guilty are afraid of. And for the innocent, I will show them that I am human. I will show them that all I want to do is help Gotham.” He pauses, suddenly unsure of himself. “Alfred, what’s something that a lot of people, but not everyone is afraid of?”

At this, Alfred admits a thoughtful hum. “Well I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but I personally am afraid of bats.”

“Then it’s settled then,” Bruce replies with one of his rare, fragile smiles. “I’ll become a bat. Or rather…” Bruce pauses once more as he stops to think, “I’ll be a bat but also a man… I’ll become Batman.”

“Fantastic,” Alfred sarcastically replies “Remind me to never tell you what I’m scared of ever again.” 

This remark, of course, makes Bruce laugh, “Aww don’t be like that, Alfie! You’ll know it’s me. It’ll be fine.”

____________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t fine. Batman was met (and still is met) with very different, conflicting opinions. Some appreciate him, and even applaud him for what he does. Others think he’s a furry with anger issues. And some even claim that he’s just as dangerous as the criminals he pursues. However, despite these issues, Bruce can’t help but feel relieved that the public’s reception of Batman is a somewhat positive one. While the mere mention of Shadowhunter made kids cower in fear, Bruce has seen on more than one occasion a child wearing a Batman shirt. Seeing kids happy and safe makes him almost as happy as punching a bad guy does. Almost but not quite. Perhaps the one remark about him having anger issues isn’t entirely wrong… 

Choosing to shrug off that thought, Bruce uses one hand to raise his coffee mug to his lips, and the other to pick up the copy of the Gotham Gazette that was left by the local newspaper delivery person. Surprisingly enough, the front article isn’t about Batman. Instead it’s about Superman’s latest exploits. A man with super strength, laser vision and god knows what else… Maybe some people are right to fear the so-called ‘savior of metropolis’. There’s only one way to find out… He needs to investigate Superman. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm still in college and school starts up for me tomorrow. I'm not sure how frequently I'm going to update once school starts, but I'm hoping at minimum to update at least once a month. Thanks for reading!
> 
> follow me on twitter: @enbybatman


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